


April Showers in August

by monsterkiss



Category: Dangan Ronpa
Genre: Gen, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-14
Updated: 2013-09-14
Packaged: 2017-12-26 14:03:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/966797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monsterkiss/pseuds/monsterkiss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>True companions share everything, but second-hand grief is a sickly and difficult emotion, and Aoi had always known that she was the weaker of the two of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	April Showers in August

“He won’t stop talking about it! Every time Fukawa and him are in the same room they fight about it. I actually almost feel sorry for her? I mean, she might be weird and kinda rude but there is just no way she would talk about that kind of stuff. Yamada must be confusing her with one of his perverted doujin characters,” Aoi laughed, roughly towelling her hair.

Sakura nodded sagely, allowing a small, strained smile to cross her lips as she wrung out her bathing suit. Aoi frowned slightly. Not even a mild chastisement for gossipping. Sakura was never exactly chatty, but Aoi had never felt uncomfortable carrying the conversation. This silence was different, though. Not exactly like being ignored, but it was clear that Sakura’s thoughts were not on her words. Everything had seemed fine until about halfway through their swim, and she was desperately riffling through her behaviour, trying to figure out if she’d done something wrong.

“The water was much nicer today. I guess they took my advice about the chlorination.”

Silence.

“Didn’t you think so, Sakura-chan? I guess they go overboard on these things to protect us, but there’s no excuse for that kind of thing. I thought I’d go blind when my goggles leaked last week! It was, um…” Sakura was still nodding at the appropriate pauses and making agreeable sounds, but Aoi couldn’t seem to keep her momentum up. They were both dressed back in their school clothes and Sakura was methodically putting her swimming things away neatly in her locker, and if she was going to say anything it had to be now, in their shared space.

“Uh, sakura-chan? Is there something wrong? You seem so gloomy…”

The locker door closed with a snap, and Sakura paused with her hand against it, her face still calm and contemplative, for long enough that when she did speak Aoi nearly jumped, suddenly aware of the tension in her shoulders.

“Asahina, I’m sorry. I have merely been lost in my thoughts for a while.”

She relaxed, just a little. “Well, that’s okay. I get stuck thinking about stuff too sometimes. I was just worried that I’d upset you or done something wrong, you know?”

“No, you have done nothing wrong. You are not the one at fault.”

Aoi smiled and hoisted her swimming bag over her shoulder, checking her watch quickly to make sure they weren’t late for their first class.

“Kenichirou has passed on.”

Aoi froze, her mind suddenly violently racing and horribly blank. It took her a moment to realise that she was still smiling and she forced her face into something more… sad? Sympathetic? Terrified? She tried to work her mouth into saying something supportive, but all that she managed was a faint “oh” before Sakura picked up her school bag and left, waving goodbye over her shoulder.

 

***

 

She wasn’t in her first class that day, or her second. By lunch time Aoi was starting to get extremely worried. The prospect of eating the three large doughnuts she’d packed that day felt pointless and hollow without Sakura there to share the tiniest, sugary piece. She had probably gone back to her room, and Asahina should probably go and get her, but the prospect of looking up into her perfectly stoic face felt like an impassable obstacle.

Lifting her school bag off her desk and wandering into the corridor with her friends milling happily around her, she felt like she was sinking.

“Asahina!”

The distinctive bellow could mean only one person. “Ishimaru?” she said, turning and coming face to face with a pair of angry eyebrows and the teen attached to them.

“I was going to go directly to our home room teacher to begin disciplinary procedures, but I thought it would be best to check with you first,” he said.

“Huh?” Ishimaru had a habit of assuming that everyone understood the world as he did, and Asahina took a moment to try and decode the context-less statement before giving up. “I don’t get it. What do you mean?”

“You and Oogami-san are well known to be close, and if she has fallen ill or is attending an official wrestling match then I assume you would be aware of it?” Ishimaru’s ‘indoor voice’ was still loud enough to make her take a cautious step back, but the other students, used to it, continued on with barely a glance back. She was a little jealous.

“Oh, you wanna know why she’s absent…” Aoi trailed off. She’d never had to break the news of a death to _anyone_ , even someone who had no connection to the deceased.

“I was very disturbed to see that she has not been in attendance!”

Ishimaru _did_ look genuinely worried, and she reminded herself that he did actually care about them all, even if his ways of showing it weren’t always helpful. She leaned back against the wall and fiddled with her collar for a moment. “Her, uh, I don’t know if you know about her… boyfriend… but he’s been really sick for a long time, and apparently he just died, so…” She couldn’t think of a way to end her sentence, frowning and staring at Ishimaru’s perfectly polished boots. “So… that’s probably why she’s not in class today.”

And here she was, still going about her business as if her friend wasn’t grieving. It wasn’t as if she’d known Kenichirou personally, so it was probably normal that she didn’t feel all that sad about him dying, but she still couldn’t help feeling that she was being a terrible friend, somehow. That the weight in her gut was some sort of betrayal.

It occurred to her that she hadn’t heard Ishimaru’s barking response yet, and glanced up at him.

“Oh no, oh, let me get you something, I think I still have some bandages from my swimming kit, here.” She pulled a length of gauze out of her bag and proffered it towards Ishimaru’s face, which seemed to be leaking from everywhere at once. “It’s clean,” she offered, though he was already wiping roughly at his skin.

“How awful! To think that Oogami-san, even now, is, oh,” he blew his nose into the bandages, which didn’t seem to be doing much more than spreading moisture around his face. Asahina patted his shoulder and hoped he wouldn’t give them back when he was done. “How like her not to make a fuss, although of course she should have put in a notice of absence, still, even that is almost understandable.”

Some of the students had stopped to look when he started bawling, and those who had were now staring in shock or whispering to each other in disbelief. Asahina had to stop herself from asking _“really?”_ She couldn’t think of a single instance in which Ishimaru had responded to unauthorised absence with anything other than disappointment and righteous indignation.

“I suppose I could make her arrangements for her, speak to her teachers and- No!” His sudden shout and the pounding of a bandage-filled fist into an open palm made her jump, “no, that isn’t enough! She is my classmate, and a model student! I must take action to ensure that she can recover and return to us, for the class! Think of her grades, her future!”

He turned and marched smartly away, pausing only to wave back at her, “thank you, Asahina-san!” She thought about following him, or at least asking for clarification, but in a moment he was gone, and she still hadn’t eaten her lunch.

 

***

 

“I don’t know what to do, and it’s horrible! A man died and Sakura-chan must be really hurting but all I can think about is how useless I’m being!”

Aoi ripped a chunk out of her pre-lunch doughnut, spraying precious sprinkles over the roof. Naegi looked longingly after them for a moment before turning back to her with a vaguely concerned smile.

“I’m sure you’re not useless. I think it can be really hard to know how to respond to something sudden like that! Especially a death. I don’t understand how people are supposed to deal with it when someone you know just… stops and isn’t around anymore.”

Chihiro nodded vigorously. “I’m sure Sakura-chan isn’t angry with you! Naegi-kun is right; it’s very difficult. Um, maybe I could run a search for you? I’m sure I could find something helpful.” She began tapping away on the laptop balanced perfectly on her knee, then stopped suddenly and blurted “not that I’m trying to pry, or seem patronising, I’m sure even you could run a simple search like this yourself. You didn’t even ask for my help, you must think I’m so rude.” Her voice was slipping into almost a whisper, and as Naegi tried to ensure her that she was being perfectly nice tears started to form at the edge of her eyes. Aoi thought with a stab of guilt that she looked more upset than she had when Sakura actually broke the news to her.

“Don’t be upset, Chihiro, Naegi-kun is right, I’m not mad at you at all.” She’d meant it to sound more peppy and reassuring, but her voice seemed to have lost it’s energy.

Chihiro didn’t appear to notice. She looked up with her large, bright eyes and mumbled “really?”

“Really.” Aoi tried to smile, and it almost felt as though her face was making the right movements.

Aoi had found Naegi eating quietly there by himself. He seemed to wander off to spend time alone like that occasionally. She thought that maybe it was because the others all had their talents and skills to cultivate in their spare time; how exactly could you train luck, anyway? Chihiro had appeared just as she’d started explaining the situation (as she’d known she eventually would, Naegi’s little round face soaking up other people’s stories like a big understanding sponge). Fujisaki had apologised the moment she’d noticed that she wasn’t alone and tried to flee, but had been gently coaxed back eventually. Now the three of them sat eating in awkward silence broken only by the bustle of chatting students and the faint sound of Oowada and Ishimaru shouting somewhere below.

“I-if I was Sakura-chan, I’d be happy to have a friend like you, even if I can’t really keep up with your swimming like she can.”

“You already are friends, Chihiro, aren’t you? I though we all were, right?” Naegi said, his eyes still directed at Aoi.

“Yeah,” she said, trying to make the smile seem more natural this time. She still had other friends to support, and she couldn’t afford to bring them down with her, not now.

“Maybe that’s the true meaning of being Super High-School Level,” Naegi mused, “to be a group of people with unbreakable bonds who can get each other through anything.”

“Naegi-kun,” Chihiro whispered, then suddenly laughed, sending him a bright red.

“That was kind of silly Naegi, wow,” Aoi agreed, chuckling. “Have you always been this sappy? That was like something out of a shounen anime!”

“Hey! Since when were you two so brutal? Maybe we aren’t friends after all.” Naegi huffed.

Aoi offered him the small half of her post-lunch doughnut in apology, but for the rest of the afternoon every time she met Chihiro’s eyes one or both of them would start giggling.

 

***

 

There was a letter outside Sakura’s room. It was large and bulging, a little crumpled and coloured a quite distressing shade of pink. It had Sakura’s name in slightly smeared ink and smelled nice in a faintly musty sort of way. Aoi regarded it with suspicion, nudging it with the toe of her shoe before carefully picking it up. In this school, a simple paper envelope could quite easily be a dangerous weapon.

She started holding it up to her ear to see if there was anything moving inside then stopped abruptly, annoyed with herself. Standing as straight as she could, she reached out and rapped her knuckles against the door.

For a long few seconds there was no response, and in that time every single possible bad thing that could have happened rushed through her mind in high-definition. Then the door slowly opened.

It was like the whole day hadn’t happened. Sakura’s hair was even damp like it had been when they were chatting in the locker room, her school uniform still neat and pressed. Her hard eyes softened as soon as she saw Aoi, and she stepped aside immediately to let her in.

A few dumbbells of various impressive sizes were lying near the bed next to a few well-thumbed looking health magazines. Otherwise Sakura’s room was fairly neat, the workout equipment looking hardly out of place next to the text books. A waft of hot, humid air was seeping in from the shower room and a faintly familiar song was coming from the stereo. Sakura hurriedly brushed past her and turned it off, blushing a little.

“I had been meaning to sample Maizono-san’s work for some time. It is very… _bright,_ but quite enjoyable.” She sat down on the creaking bed and motioned for Aoi to join her.

Sakura’s weight made the mattress sink, making it hard not to slide towards her and rest against her side. She had never minded that before, but now the thought made her skin prickle. Everything had a new, uncomfortable feel to it that she didn’t like at all.

“There was a letter outside your door. I think it’s for you?” She handed the envelope over, “be careful, it seems a little weird.”

Sakura nodded, giving the letter a cursory once-over before delicately opening it.

Aoi squeaked and sprang off the bed as a pile of pink moths cascaded onto Sakura’s lap, knocking the letter out of her hand. “I knew it! It’s a trap!”

Sakura give her a bemused glance, brushing away the bugs off her skirt, though now that she looked at it they did seem to be a little too thin and soft-looking to be insects. “Wait, flower petals?”

“Cherry blossoms, I believe,” said Sakura, bending to pick the letter off the floor. “Are you alright, Asahina?” She rested her other hand on Aoi’s wrist gently. Aoi realised that her own hands were clenched painfully tightly.

“I’m fine! Really, I think I’m just kinda wound up today, you know?” She rested her hand over Sakura’s and sat back down next to her, but the taller girl’s eyes still drilled into her, as if searching for some hidden vulnerability, but without any of the ruthlessness or violence she had seen when Sakura sized up an opponent. There was only open concern. It was almost frightening. “Uh, why did someone send you a package of flower petals?” There were still some pooled in Sakura’s skirt. They would have looked quite pretty if they weren’t so bruised and withered.

“There’s a letter,” she pulled out a very battered looking sheet of paper. It was stained in places and a few petals were stuck to it. “It is…” she paused. Aoi leaned over to read it.

Words were crammed onto every inch of the page, at different angles and sizes. She picked one out at random. “‘Sakura-san, we’re all here for you, from Naegi.’ ‘Reach deep inside and find the strength to go on, like a true warrior of legend! Yamada.’ ‘I was so sad to hear about your loss, so heartbreaking, your mind must be in such turmoil’, that’s Enoshima-chan. ‘Do not lose hope! I will bring your homework until you can return, Ishimaru.’ Wait, is _this_ what he’s been doing all afternoon?”

“It would appear so. I was not aware so many other students had his exact same handwriting,” Sakura said, smiling slightly.

“Most of them are real, though! Let’s see,” she tugged the paper over and scanned it quickly. “Kuwata wasn’t even in today, he had a baseball match. And Mondo probably didn’t sign just because Ishimaru was the one asking, you know what he can be like.” She stopped, looking up. “I think the only one who isn’t here at all is me.”

“Hmm. Ishimaru probably assumed that I would not need a letter to know that you would support me, correctly.” She paused, a frown beginning to form on her hard face. “To be honest, I had not thought that you might tell anyone. That may cause some problems.”

“Ugh, I’m sorry, I didn’t think.” Aoi was still staring at the letter, though the words had blurred into illegibility. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, I’m…” It was too much. She felt like just before a swim, all pent-up energy that needed to get out. Or maybe she just needed to get rid of the sick feeling she’d had since that morning. “I’m terrible. I don’t know what to do or say, I have to do _something_ but all I can think about is how much I wish this wasn’t happening so I wouldn’t have to!”

Sakura blinked. “Asahina, please. I don’t need you to do anything. I have said my prayers for Kenichirou.” Sakura’s voice was calm and steady, which somehow made everything worse.

“But you shouldn’t have to suffer alone! I can’t bear it! You’re always so strong, Sakura, way stronger than I’ll ever be, and all I want is to be the strong one for you now, but I don’t… I don’t know what to do… Even now I’m just whining at you and making it all about me. That’s awful.” She stopped, breathless, staring into the wall to avoid seeing Sakura’s face, the pity and the disgust that she must be feeling. She jumped when she felt hands rest on her shoulders, forgetting that the woman could move with as much quiet grace as brute force when she needed to.

“Thank you, Aoi. Thank you for caring about me. When I say that you do not need to do anything for me, it is because having you by my side is all I have needed.”

Aoi gasped, inhaling a breath of shampoo and the slightest hint of the blossoms. “No, this isn’t fair. _You_ shouldn’t be the one comforting _me_. Please don’t, not when Kenichirou is-”

“If it were not for you, I do not know if I could have survived Kenichirou’s passing,” Aoi flinched, the thought that _anything_ could overcome the imposing woman almost unbelievable, unthinkable, even, “I could not even imagine telling you at first, afraid I would only make you- No, that is not true. At first I was afraid that you would not care. That all along I had misread the situation, and we only interacted out of similar interests.”

“No! Sakura-chan, we’re-”

“I know. I was confused, and afraid. Until I came here I had had no companions outside of the dojo, and people feared and avoided me. But here, I know,” she smiled and pulled a stray petal out of Aoi’s hair, “that I have friends. Whether you know it or not, your presence gives me strength. That is why I was able to overcome my grief. I had not even noticed it until this morning, when I realised that, for the first time in eighty-four days, I had not thought about Kenichirou’s death at all.”

“But I… wait,” Aoi whispered, the realisation of Sakura’s words hitting her. “Kenichirou died… but you said today…”

Sakura smiled sadly. “It is a strange thing. I thought that it would be terrible to wake up without him the first thought on my mind, that it would make him truly dead. Perhaps it does. Perhaps that is not so bad a thing. Mourning him in silent obsession seems like a poor thing, when I could have been honouring him by living a life he would have been proud of.”

“All this time you didn’t say anything, and I was just talking and acting like normal. I never even noticed.” She felt strangely light and dizzy, and was grateful for Sakura’s hands still weighing heavy on her shoulders. “That must have been so lonely.”

“At times it was unbearable, and I did not even know how I could survive, or even get out of bed.”

“How did you?” she asked, sniffing.

Sakura shrugged. “You would come to my door to fetch me for our morning exercise. Then you would walk to class, and I would have to follow you, and then to lunch, and so on. At every time I could have closed up and ignored my life, you were there, pulling me back.”

Her voice was strong and sure, Aoi couldn’t have argued even if she had wanted to. She just threw her arms around Sakura’s neck and hugged her, even though it meant standing awkwardly on her toes. “Then I’ll keep doing that, every day! Being with you and going out and training and having fun together, that’s all I really want to do. I think you’re the most important person to me, you know?” She was grateful that Sakura couldn’t see the blush she could feel overtaking her face.

“Then I am very fortunate,” she answered, squeezing Aoi back very gently, which was still hard enough to wince a little, not that she cared all that much.

 

***

 

Many people have written about the romance of cherry blossoms swirling in the breeze while great confessions are made and deep emotions felt. The relative passion of two athletic girls scooping handfuls of wilted petals off a dorm room floor have not been explored quite so thoroughly, but it was enough.

 


End file.
